See, the Schmoops and the Bug and I were in Denver last week and the lovely hotel we were staying in did not have free wifi (what year is this, anyway? I know of McDonald's locations with free wifi, and I don't pay to stay there for days on end) (also, we didn't pay to stay in out hotel in Denver, either, so maybe I should just stop complaining) so anyway we found ourselves one night munching on frozen custard at a fast food place in the middle of a long pedestrian mall and that place did have free wifi (my point, right?) and so I snagged the iPod touch from Schmoops and threw together a blog post.
And then two things happened: Bug was struck with the sudden and intense urge to spend lots of time with her hands on the floor of that fast food place, and also she pooped. Schmoops looked at me with that frantic look on his face and because we were stroller-free that evening I volunteered to sacrifice my arm to potential poop-leakage and hefted up the Bug and off we went. Right after I published that sucky post.
So anyway, Denver. Even though 2010 was his very first full year with the agency, (remember how he marched himself right out of his old job and into this better one a mere 2 days after I pushed the Bug out? Stressful. Also, a brilliant move) the Schmoopsie-face qualified for the Leader's Conference his company holds yearly because he is very, very good at what he does and works very, very hard at it. I am proud of him all the way up to the moon. Plus, free trip to Denver.
I'm sure I'll post details and some pictures when I find my camera. I bet it's somewhere underneath the 16 loads of laundry that need to be done. Here's the quick version:
Highlight: Bug pooped through every single pair of pants, shorts, or leggings we packed.
Lowlight: No self serve laundry at the hotel.
Highlight: Bug on the way to Denver. A gem, really.
Lowlight: The 9 hour trip home. I nearly lost my marbles, and I'm not 21 months old.
Highlight: Bug's super strange fear of the free t-shirt we got at the conference. Should have seen her lose her mind when I put it on her for bedtime.
Lowlight: Putting on a damp swimsuit. You know you know what I'm talking about.
Moment to remember: Bug had honestly said "mommy mommy mommymommymommy" so many times in a row on the way home I thought maybe I would die. A response from me, any response from me, was met with a blank stare from her, and quick return to the rapid fire mommy-ing. Schmoops and I discussed possible uses of an audio recording of this, including torture. (Oh, wait. The PC term is "interrogation techniques", right?) Pretty soon we found ourselves with two options- laugh, or leave me alone on the side of the road to celebrate the silence.
We decided to time how long it would take Bug to hit 100 mommys. In her defense, she didn't hit 100 before giving up. In my defense, she did hit 64. In one minute and 24 seconds. Thankfully, we were laughing so hard by then that I was pretty sure my brain wouldn't explode after all.
|How both Bug and I felt somewhere along I-70|
Between fits of laughter, the Schmoops and I talked about the funny parts of parenthood, and about how some things make me nuts ("mommymommymommymommy") and not so much him (betcha "daddydaddydaddy" would've put him over the edge) and vise versa.
"We all have our El Guapos," he said. I laughed again, and thought about how smart he is.
And I guess that's what I was trying to say in my last post, too, when I was so rudely interrupted by poo.
Parenthood is full of El Guapos. And sometimes all perspective means is remembering that at least our El Guapo isn't the actual El Guapo, a big dangerous man who wants to kill us.